


So Close

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time, M/M, Modern Middle Earth, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Virgin Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 04:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: The missing smut scene between chapter 7 and the epilogue of (Almost Believing) This One's Not Pretend.Basically after years of pining and after some time pretending to be in a relationship, Bilbo and Thorin are finally together and get tobetogether.





	So Close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irrealia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrealia/gifts).
  * Inspired by [(Almost Believing) This One's Not Pretend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067673) by [diemarysues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues). 



> I wanted to use 'Passive Blow Jobs' as a tag but that doesn't exist. Ah well. Cool that the Thorin tag does exist though.
> 
> Thank you to [alkjira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira) for the first sentence, a couple of ideas, and for betaing. A saint, as always.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Dwarf and a Hobbit who have finally realised that they are both morons must be in want of a good shag.

 

Really, all that initially translated to was them kissing like it was necessary for them to breathe, trying to press together even closer although Bilbo was already lying atop Thorin. He was not a heavy weight. His legs were spread wide to accommodate Thorin’s bulk and this was pleasing, not only because it highlighted their size difference but also because the position pulled the material of his trousers taut. He wanted to say that his hands went there of their own will, but in the safety of his own head Thorin could admit that he’d wanted to touch Bilbo’s arse for _ages_.

 

He tried to pull away to voice a question, but Bilbo wasn’t having it. He kept chasing Thorin’s lips; Thorin wasn’t so heartless to deny him. But he needed to know, between kisses, “Are you – _mmh_ – wearing, are you wearing pants?”

 

This had his Hobbit laughing. Thorin, eyes closed, felt a trail of kisses to his ear into which Bilbo whispered, “I never do.”

 

That – wow. That was certainly information that was going to revisit him in the future. He was just lucky it was information he’d also be able to take advantage of. Just to confirm that it was true, Thorin stuck his fingers past the waistband of Bilbo’s trousers; they met nothing but _soft_ bare skin. Suddenly impatient he tried tugging but could not get the fabric more than halfway down Bilbo’s arse, spread as his legs were.

 

Bilbo pulled back with a disgruntled look. “That is most undignified.”

 

Thorin couldn’t help a snort. “Then take them off yourself.”

 

“I shall.” He rolled off onto the bed with a small bounce. It was a little cute. “You might have at least unbuttoned it first.”

 

“Well it’s not like I’ve done this before.” He swallowed at that admission, unsure whether he should have made it.

 

Bilbo didn’t run away, which was a good sign. On the other hand, he was just kicking his trousers off his ankles so running wasn’t an option. (True to his word, he was not wearing pants.) He then removed his jumper and shirt, emerging fluffy haired but smiling.

 

 _Oh_ , Thorin thought.

 

“That doesn’t really matter, Thorin,” Bilbo said, stroking his cheek. “The only thing that’s important is that you’re willing.”

 

He leaned into Bilbo’s palm, eyes roving over his body. “Oh, I’m willing. Believe me.”

 

“That’s a relief,” laughed Bilbo. “Though would you like me to help you with your clothes?”

 

“Help… me?”

 

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” And before Thorin could contradict this – or want to contradict it – he suddenly had a lapful of Bilbo. A lapful of naked Bilbo. Very naked Bilbo. Lots of bare skin and wow. “Just relax, darling.” And Thorin was gone, definitely. That endearment was worse than the ‘dear’ Bilbo had tossed out over lunch the other day, partially because ‘darling’ ranked higher, but mostly because it was backed by fondness and love that was made obvious only because of the confessions that’d happened earlier.

 

He sat there, a little stunned, watching Bilbo unbutton the sweater he was wearing and being able to help only when he was encouraged to shrug the wool off. Then clever fingers started on his plaid shirt.

 

“As nice as winter may be, layers are getting on my nerves.” Bilbo’s tongue was between his teeth in concentration. “I’m certain I didn’t take this long taking my own clothes off.”

 

“Yours were mostly pullovers,” Thorin said, daring to settle his hands on Bilbo’s hips. They were wide and pudgy, just the right size for his grip. “I think.”

 

“Sensible clothes. Oh thank goodness, you’re not wearing an undershirt.”

 

“Well I wasn’t planning on going out. Definitely not going to now.” He bit back any grumbling when Bilbo pushed his shirt off his shoulders, dislodging Thorin’s hands just as they were getting comfortable. The way Bilbo was looking at him more than made up for that though.

 

“Your chest,” Bilbo announced, “is a work of art.”

 

“Oh, er, thank –” Thorin broke off as Bilbo, without any more preamble than that, leaned down and started kissing his way across his collarbone.

 

His lips were soft, Thorin knew from their kisses. Having them press deliberately against his skin was electrifying, as if Bilbo was planting sparks as he went. He groaned a little, toes curling into the sheets, and tried to think if pulling Bilbo closer would be rude or not. Not that Bilbo wasn’t plenty close already, tongue coming into play, hands wandering down and then up again. Thorin jumped when he felt a friendly tweak to one nipple.

 

“Good?” Bilbo murmured, not lifting his head from Thorin’s sternum.

 

“Very.” Thorin lifted a hand and experimentally touched the nipple Bilbo had just abandoned. It didn’t feel as good, oddly. Maybe he wasn’t doing it right?

 

“As charming as that frown is, I’d rather you be wearing a different expression.”

 

“Like what?” No sooner had the question left his lips when Thorin felt the heel of Bilbo’s palm press firmly against the front of his jeans. It was suddenly very hard – no, not hard, bad choice of word – it was suddenly very difficult to breathe and this was with two layers of cloth between them. How would it feel when he was completely naked like Bilbo was?

 

The Hobbit was smiling. “There we go, that’s what I wanted.”

 

He grasped Bilbo’s chin, holding him still for a deep kiss so he could taste that smile. “What else do you want?” he murmured, lips whispering over Bilbo’s.

 

“The rest of your clothes off, for a start.”

 

Bilbo had his jeans off in record time and with considerably less trouble that Thorin had had with his. Ease of practice, perhaps? Or maybe just that he’d been sensible enough to undo the button and zip first. Thorin wouldn’t have called the groping that happened after the undoing particularly sensible, but he appreciated it all the same. Maybe too much.

 

“I think I’ll take these off myself.” At the raised eyebrows this elicited, he sheepishly explained, “Things might be over rather quickly if you do it.”

 

Rather than being laughed at, he was kissed. “That’s quite flattering.” Bilbo helpfully climbed off him. “While you take your pants off can you fetch lube? And condoms?”

 

Thorin most definitely didn’t startle. “I have one but not the other.” He got off the bed to avoid looking at his expression. He knew that, logically, Bilbo loved him enough to not care about any lack of experience; he was often kind and rarely tactless. Insecurity had a funny way of drowning out logic, though.

 

Still, Bilbo proved himself as wonderful and full of surprises as he usually was. There was no judgement in his voice, only practicality when he said, “We’ll have to get them at some point, then.” And that was that.

 

The lube was shoved into the back of his sock drawer; Thorin discreetly checked the expiry date before pressing it into Bilbo’s hand. He busied himself with his boxers, leaving them bunched on the floor. Seeing them beside Bilbo’s discarded clothes gave Thorin a thrill; they were really doing this, after years of dancing around each other.

 

Well. Unknowingly dancing around each other. It was simultaneously funny and sad that they’d both managed to keep their feelings hidden for so long. Thorin supposed they were both just too good at lying to themselves – certainly, looking back, every instance of what could have been interest on Bilbo’s part he’d explained away as a projection of his own love. He hadn’t ignored so much as noticed, ‘corrected’, and dismissed.

 

A touch on his belly startled him from introspection. Bilbo was suddenly standing as well. Any lingering sorrow melted away in the face of… well, his face. He was looking at Thorin with reverence and hunger both, eyes shining. They kissed again – it was different now, without a stitch of clothing between them. More…

 

More _more_ , he settled on, preferring to concentrate on Bilbo’s mouth rather than his own thoughts. He slid his hands up Bilbo’s back, delighting in the smooth skin and the way Bilbo’s plump stomach pressed forward as his back arched. (The latter not least because it was welcome pressure on his aching cock.)

 

Later there would be time to thoroughly explore Bilbo’s body, to make up for all the years of barely seeing more than a flash of skin when his shirt rode up – much later, since they’d need to be back downstairs before his nosy family got too suspicious. For now he sank into the dim ache of his neck as he continued kissing Bilbo, groaning a little when Bilbo’s grip on his hair turned firmer.

 

He didn’t quite jump when those hands stroked down his back and cupped his arse, but he was very surprised when Bilbo gripped and _spread_.

 

“Have you fingered yourself before?” Bilbo asked. Going by his blush, he found the idea rather fetching.

 

Thorin had to disappoint him, though. “I’ve tried a couple of times, but I always seem to get a cramp. Just wanking seemed easier.”

 

Having dropped back onto his heels, Bilbo apparently decided it easier to kiss the centre of Thorin’s chest rather than tiptoe again. “I’ll make it good for you.”

 

Fondness swelled within him (while other things also swelled). “I don’t doubt it.” He chased the generous curve of Bilbo’s cheek with the backs of his fingers and then, to satisfy a curiosity he’d had for a long time, tweaked the pointed tip of one ear.

 

He didn’t expect Bilbo’s eyes to suddenly darken, and then to be practically Dwarf-handled back onto the bed.

 

“Guess that rumour was true,” he said wonderingly, laying on his side under the imperious direction of Bilbo’s pokes.

 

“Make sure to keep it in mind.” Bilbo was smirking as he knelt on the bed. His hair was still fluffy from earlier and the apples of his cheeks were pink. A matching, deeper pink was to be found nestled in his lap and if Thorin hadn’t been lying down he’d have reached for it to return the pleasure Bilbo had given him. As it was, he stayed where he was and watched the slow dribble of lube onto Bilbo’s fingers, and that had to be the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

 

Thorin found that he couldn’t really describe how it felt like to be fingered – this was his first time, after all, so there was a mixture of alarm and pleasure, especially at the start of warm pressure. It didn’t help that Bilbo was utterly wonderful as he gently explained everything of what he was doing, liberal with praise as he worked. Even as he crept ever closer to his peak, half of his attention was on watching Bilbo.

 

He occasionally flicked his own gaze up to meet Thorin’s eyes, and he would smile, but he more often stared at Thorin’s cock as it lay hard and flushed against his stomach, or lower to where his fingers were pumping in and out of Thorin’s body. He looked so enthralled even though he wasn’t the one on his side with four fingers inside him stretching and sliding and hitting that spot, _yes_ , right there –!

 

It’d been some time since his last orgasm and longer since one that left him utterly breathless and shaking. His gaze had either whited out in the pleasure or he’d shut his eyes a little too tightly – in any case, by the time he was able to see again he wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

 

He managed to ask, still breathing hard, “Have you?”

 

“Not yet, but you look so lovely that I don’t think I’ll last long.” Bilbo was panting softly, looking flushed and lovely himself, two furrows in his plush lower lip where he’d sunk his top teeth into. “Just give me a few moments.”

 

“Why don’t I give you my mouth?” Thorin asked, surprising himself with this sudden authority. Post coital confidence was certainly something he’d not known about.

 

Bilbo appeared thrown as well. “While it’s… largely safer than penetrative sex, may I remind you we don’t have condoms.”

 

He scoffed, dismissive. “Our race is hardier than most.”

 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, finally able to gather enough strength to push off the bed and lean over him, “that you should never underestimate Dwarves.”

 

Bilbo seemed less impressed by that line than Thorin expected. Bit unfair, really. Didn’t smouldering work – was, was Thorin smouldering right? “Just for that you’re going to be on your back.”

 

“How’s that supposed to work?” It was an up-and-down thing, surely.

 

“Get down here and you’ll see,” was Bilbo’s answer, his eyes bright and teasing but clearly serious as he sat back on his heels expectantly.

 

It was too easy to follow the order, sliding beside Bilbo and then rolling onto his back. He felt a little thrill in doing so, though it was nothing compared to the sight of Bilbo looming over him, the Hobbit suddenly bigger than he was thanks to the angle of Thorin staring up at him. His cock, held steady in hand, looked especially sizeable.

 

Bilbo reached out with his other hand and took Thorin’s, putting it on his hip. “If things get too much for you, just stop me, okay?”

 

“I trust you,” he said, easy like it was breathing, and let his hand fall back on the bed.

 

He’d savour that wide-eyed look forever.

 

After a small pause, Bilbo was able to shake away the surprise. “Open your mouth,” He said, shuffling closer and nearly kneeing Thorin’s temple. “And try not to close your eyes. I want to watch those pretty blues.”

 

Thorin swallowed and tried to reply. Bilbo sliding his cock across his mouth, slow and filthy, stopped any words he had. The skin was hotter and silkier than he expected. He swallowed again and his tongue pushed out automatically, and he got his first _real_ taste of Bilbo. When Bilbo moaned he did it again and moulded his lips properly around the cock between them.

 

Even though he could do little more than that, Bilbo appeared wrecked. Thorin had never seen him this dishevelled – including the time with the Trolls, and considering he’d been clothed then that should have been impossible. But maybe it had more to do with the way he was trying to stifle delicious sounds, the way his hand was trembling as he stroked Thorin’s hair, the way there was already a slight stutter to his hips.

 

The angle to view all these things was pretty fantastic though.

 

And if the sight of Bilbo wasn’t enough, Thorin’s other senses had their own feasts to enjoy. The aforementioned delicious sounds that were a mixture of bitten off moans and breathy cursing made louder when he rubbed his cock through Thorin’s beard instead of just over his mouth. The smell of him that seemed to saturate the very air Thorin breathed. The slide of hot, velvety skin against his lips, made slick with his tongue – and on that note, on his tongue, the salty bitterness that only seemed to intensify as they continued on.

 

It was a shame he’d already come, though if he’d been some decades younger Thorin was sure his cock might have made the effort to rise to attention. He was curious to see how it would feel to have their roles reversed… but it was heartening to know that he and Bilbo could and would be exploring more in the future.

 

Despite the odd angle Thorin reached up and caressed the inner skin of Bilbo’s thigh, from his knee and then moving upwards. It was probably the silkiest thing he’d ever touched. Putting his mouth there would be no hardship; he looked forward to it.

 

Bilbo’s hand slid down to span Thorin’s throat. The light pressure was _very_ interesting and had Thorin’s breath whooshing out of him, his grip tightening inadvertently, possibly enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise come morning. When Bilbo swallowed his throat clicked, and he asked, “Good?”

 

Not being able to decide between “Fuck yes” and “Harder”, and anyway being unable and unwilling to pull away long enough for an answer, he just hummed in affirmative. Hopefully it got his meaning across.

 

It did, because Bilbo immediately started thrusting faster, accompanying that with the firmer press of his palm. Fuck. Every drag of breath felt tighter and he was very aware that Bilbo had the power to deny him that. He _wanted_ Bilbo to have that power, needed him to hold him down and take him as he was doing now.

 

Apparently that went both ways because it wasn’t long before Bilbo’s hips stuttered and he let out a long, relieved groan. All through it his thigh under Thorin’s hand shuddered beautifully; he should have liked to see that properly. Next time.

 

Bilbo had a smile for him by the time he’d collected himself enough to sit back on his heels. It was small and happy, and the best thing Thorin had ever seen. He sat up quickly, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, then cupped Bilbo’s face to bring him close.

 

“That was...” In lieu of finding the right words Thorin kissed him, something blossoming in his chest when Bilbo looped his arms around his neck and laughed into his mouth. They didn’t need words now. They had each other, finally, and time, and Thorin wasn’t going to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> Please to comment. I recommend the [floaty ao3 review box extension](https://archiveofourown.org/faq/unofficial-browser-tools?language_id=en#functools), it even gives you tips on what to comment on.


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